


a universe of you

by DefineNormal



Category: Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears (2020), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: 1000 words, 999 tho?, F/M, after the fade to black, and they don't have to have a point, but Feels, i was told, it's not morning yet, my google doc said 1000 words, sadly smutless, so many feels, this is a character study, whatever, which is good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefineNormal/pseuds/DefineNormal
Summary: Set post-fade to black. Jack has thinky thoughts about Phryne.Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. - Sarah Williams (1837–1868)
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 87





	a universe of you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [batard_loaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batard_loaf/gifts).



She rose over him like the moon, face open and serene, her usually sardonic and seductive smile softened by pleasure. Her fingers curled into fists and released against his chest, pushing and pulling, taking and giving. Their bodies joined but that which tethered him to her was something more profound. Jack was caught in her orbit. Once he thought to reach escape velocity, wondered if he could run far enough and fast enough to break the gravitational force of her nature. But he was Phryne-bound and, in spite of everything, content to stay that way.

Even when she’d died, spectacularly, thousands of miles away, he was drawn to lay her to rest. The remaining fragments of her, treasured memories, lodged deep in his very soul. Even as he traveled the world to bid her farewell, he knew he would not be free. Did not  _ want _ to be free.

Her breath hiccuped above him. She was watching him curiously, the glint in her eyes both mildly concerned and more substantially challenged. It was no surprise that, once the decision was made, Phryne Fisher would toss herself with abandon into his arms. For Jack, the slightest edge of disbelief still nestled in his mind and his thumbs drew over her ribcage, grounding him, reminding him this was not one of many grief-stricken, fevered dreams.

Looming over him, Phryne’s lips trembled lightly and she drifted forward, her hand cupping his neck gently. She paused the shuddering of her hips and brushed her nose gently against his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered but Jack shook his head. They were beyond regret now, beyond missed chances and lost time. He did not want her to be sorry, he wanted her to be inflamed.

Shaking off the spell of wonder and disbelief, Jack gripped her hips tighter. This was a night of celebration and he slipped a hand between them.

Phryne rose over him like the moon, face open and passionate. Her fingers clenched against his chest and she drew his face to hers. She rose higher still and then broke apart into starlight.

* * *

In spite of his exhaustion, Jack couldn’t sleep. He was sore - weeks of grief had tensed his muscles into knots that did not unravel when he followed Phryne once more into danger. And he was still not convinced that, should he close his eyes, she wouldn’t shimmer and disappear like a mirage. He was sure he would wake up to find himself behind the wheel outside Wardlow, watching darkened windows and wishing her back into his life. 

And so, Phryne soundly sprawled beside him, he contented himself with mapping the constellation of barely-there freckles across her skin. A cluster of three, Orion, on her shoulder. Andromeda across her lower back, disappearing around her hip. Gemini, Perseus, Taurus. He watched her until the light began to change, the deep dark shifting imperceptibly to morning. 

Jack’s eyes burned from lack of sleep. His skin burned from the sun and sand, thighs and back chafed and sore from hours on camel back, trekking across the unforgiving landscape in pursuit of this woman. Both traversing a familiar trajectory but also in completely uncharted territory, following faith and instinct. He, unwilling to lose her and she, completely unwilling to be lost. He ached for sleep and still he watched the rise and fall of her breathing, counted the night in her exhales.

He thought briefly of endings, of tomorrows, of going back to Melbourne with a married woman on his arm. He thought of the commissioner, his post, his career. There was anxiety there, below the tender shell of fulfillment. The ineffable worries of a man with a plan upended by a dark-haired, bright eyed temptress currently returning his study with one of her own.

He hadn’t realized she was awake.

“What do you see, Inspector?” Her voice was deliciously low, the roughness of it licking up his spine. She walked her fingers across the slight space between them and up to his face, brushing her thumb across his top lip. She looked almost abashed, as though touching him in passion was easier than touching him with simple affection. And yet her hand lingered and soothed the furrows creasing his brow.

The simple brush of her fingers settled the things rattling in his mind, the warm press of flesh reminding him that, though the universe was vast, he was still decidedly on terra firma. 

“I see,” His own voice was rough and low and she shivered. Her smile was lazy but genuine, her hair tousled but beautiful. Her lips trembled into the soft smile he knew was reserved only for him, when the final artifices of The Honourable fell away and she was simply Phryne. “I see you.”

It caught her off-guard, the quiet, honest admission. She tucked her chin and gaze flittered above his head, along the slightly billowing walls of the tent. She was suddenly, inexplicably, coltish and shy, a moment of choice upon her. The airy, easy bantering answer she was poised to give dissolved and instead her magnetic gaze drew his once more and she was perfectly still. 

“I know you do.” She murmured, and drew him forward. He was helpless to resist, didn’t know why he had for so long. She was his Southern Cross, the fixed point that made sense of the night sky and all the mysteries between them. She was tumultuous and unpredictable, and yet for all of that, she stood true and still, guiding him home. 

There was still so much to sort. But perhaps theirs was a story not quite written in the stars but mutable, expanding outwards like the universe. Not undiscoverable so much as simply undiscovered. 

Rising, Phryne met him in the middle of the wide bed, pressing their foreheads together. Jack wrapped himself in her and sighed.

_ Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is. But I hit 1000 words exactly (according to google docs but not AO3 so what word doesn't exist? HUH?) 
> 
> Anyway here. Take it. 
> 
> for batard_loaf, with many thanks. Soops sorry for all the laptop angst lately. Maybe this will be a little diversion. And I do mean "little". 
> 
> Unedited because I like to live dangerously.


End file.
